Where Does Doubt Fit In?

At the heart of the Judeo-Christian faith is this core belief that the God who made the heavens and the earth is relational. He’s personal. One can know him. He does not stand at a distance, but instead, gets involved in our lives.

This was never a difficult idea for me to believe, until of late. I’ve recently gone through a long season of doubt. I’m not sure why, or how it happened, but from one day to the next, I woke up and thought – Maybe there is no God. Maybe it’s all a sham. What if it’s all a big joke?

I wrestled with my doubt and it’s been lonely for me because I talk to God about all my troubles and here I was doubting him. How could I talk about doubting his existence with the very one I doubted? And it wasn’t exactly that I doubted God’s existence – I doubted my understanding of who He is, what He is about. I doubted Christianity as a means to finding God. I doubted the incarnation, the fact that Jesus came in the flesh and was and is God. I was looking at all the myths and tales of history and realized, Maybe Jesus is just another story. Yes, he existed, but maybe he was just a man. Nothing more.

Honestly, I couldn’t figure out what to do with my doubts. I shared them with no one. I contemplated changing traditions. I wondered if converting to Catholicism would fix my struggle. I like the contemplative life. Would that make it better?

I considered Judaism. One of my favorite writers, Mary Doria Russel, is a converted Jew. She couldn’t believe in the incarnation. But she does believe in God. Judaism has worked for her. Perhaps it would work for me.

My problem, as I wrestled with these things over the past year, maybe two years is that I really like Jesus. I can’t just toss him out. I know him. I’ve touched the hem of his garment, if you will. He’s touched my life and my heart and I’ve heard his voice. I recognize his voice. Not that he was saying a whole lot to me at the time. It was pretty silent, but I’ve experienced his presence in my life. Even in the face of my doubts, that was my anchor. I’ve been with him. I’ve seen him change whole families. My family. I’ve seen women, broken by abusive husbands break free because of Jesus and make new lives – empowered lives, because they found hope in the incarnation. I’ve seen men get up and walk out of terrible addictions that were really hurting them, because they saw Jesus in their lives, in their story, and it made them want to be better men. I’ve watched God re-name people. He re-named me. I’ve seen miracles.

But in this seasons of doubt, I wondered if it was all a sham. Joke’s on you, Tina.

What then do we do? How do we make peace with our doubts and still continue on and not feel like liars or fakes? How could I doubt? I have no idea, but I did. And it’s been the best thing that could have happened, because it recentered my life.

Sometimes faith a gift. Many people would argue, it’s always a gift. And I used to believe this too. For most of my life, it’s been that. A genuine honest gift. I believed with no effort of my own. As if it was granted to me. I simply believed that Jesus was the Son of God, raised from the dead. A resounding amen, would come from me whenever I thought of it, whenever I heard it spoken. It was settled in my mind and in my heart.

And sometimes faith is a choice. In this spiritually dry season, I’ve chosen. I’ve chosen to hold on for dear life and say I believe. I choose to believe there is an author. That He’s present. Most of all I choose to believe He is Love and He is for me and knows my name. That there is purpose in all the mayhem. That wrong will be righted. That Jesus is the Son of God. Present in this world. Alive today.

During this season, I read the Bible and prayed. Mainly, I read the Psalms. Over. And. Over. For a while, I tried to conjure faith like an amulet, a charm bracelet. It didn’t work. I doubted. And after a while, I had to make peace with my doubts. I still doubt. But I’ve chosen to live by faith. Not by doubt. And there’s a difference.

Now faith is being sure of what I hope for and certain of what I do not see …